DoubleIdentity
by Kelly Beck
Summary: She's a girl captured by Organization 13. With no memories of her previous life, she's desperately wondering who she really is. What is her connection to Sora, the Keyblade, and even a girl called Namine...?


Day I

It started with blue, I think. Blue streaks of color encircled me. Dancing shapes of indigo and cerulean embraced my vision. Around me were pearls. White little spheres that stretched and churned before my eyes. And then I couldn't breath…

"Wake _up_."

A savage, unfamiliar voice stabbed next to my ear. No, I was still dreaming. I was back home, swimming and kicking under the beautiful ocean surface.

I yelped and sat up when a pain stabbed at my side. Yanked into reality so suddenly, I blinked. Panic rose in my chest and stomach, like bile. All around me was white. So blindingly white that my eyes watered profusely.

I didn't look to find the source of the voice- or the pain- but I did see something in the corner of my vision. Black. A black, leather boot. I looked up, shifting a curtain of dull locks out of my eyes, and then I saw them. Apparently, they saw me too, because I was in what seemed to be the center of the room, curled in a fetal ball.

"I'm dreaming…" I murmured, and was answered by a few chuckled from the figures around me. They were all dressed in long, black coats, all hooded. They reminded me of morticians… or drug dealers, depending on how dazed I was. I was _definitely _dreaming.

"Girl… do you know where you are?" a voice, deep unlike the previous one, issued from the man in the center of the shadowy figures. His shoulders broad and his arms were crossed in a position of power.

"You sound like a _doctor_, Marluxia." piped the previous voice. A woman, I concluded, by the lilt in her tone and the slightness of her frame.

"She's obviously confused…" another new voice. My head hurt. Not only were their so many people to keep track of, but there cloaks hurt my eyes. Inky black against the room's stark, white background. For a fleeting moment, I wondered how a room could be so bright without a legitimate light source. Now, _that _bothered me…

"Who… who _are _you?" the words tumbled from my mouth of their own accord. My speech was slurred and the words ran together, like I'd just woken up from a surgery.

"Who we are is none of your concern, girl." The other man spoke again. I assumed him to be the leader of the figures. I counted. There were six. Six black, hooded figures in a snow white room. Why wasn't this a dream? It couldn't of been… not with the throbbing pain at my rib cage.

"Jamie…" I supplied. Once again, my pronunciation was off. I slid onto my knees and then stood up slowly. All at once, my head spun and I was on the hard floor again.

"She's weak…"

"Ah, it'll wear off."

"Where _am I_?" I asked, this time with more force. Who were these people and why did I feel like someone had hit me over the head with an iron?

More laughter, to my annoyance. The dizziness in my skull had congealed into a solid headache. My temples throbbed, and I held them, gasping.

"Put her under. She needs rest."

"Good riddance…"

And then the scene's two harsh tones bled together. I fainted.

Day II

I was staring up at the ceiling. It was a ceiling, I knew, because I was lying on my back. I felt a hard surface pressing into the back of my head and my shoulder blades. I blinked, and then a strong clarity washed over me like a tidal wave. My nose itched. I reached to scratch it, but then couldn't. Like pieces floating to fit into a puzzle, I realized that I was strapped down. My hand moved barely an inch off of the… table. Yes, I was strapped onto a table. The light was harsh and once again, I noticed that there weren't any light fixtures in the room. I turned my head to the right and noted a metal table. My gut twisted when I saw scalpels, syringes, and tools I'd never even seen before. There were translucent wires taped down to the table, running up to a clear plastic bag. From there, the tubes snaked down to my arm, where they disappeared under a hard white square taped to my arm. Panic didn't fully hit me until I saw the colors of the tubes. Tinted purple, the color of raisins. Blood.

All at once, I remembered the people from before. I remembered their voices, their dress, their… absence. Absence? I didn't understand… I couldn't remember from before. I knew I'd woken up on a floor, feeling as though I'd been ran over by a train. I'd fainted, and now I was here in what seemed to be an operation room. Exactly _what _they'd been operating on, I had no clue. But I was here, strapped harshly to this table with a needle stuck in my arm.

I moved to survey my left side and immediately spotted a door. It's frosted glass allowed me to see shadows outside. Those _people. _Two of them. They were talking… about me.

And then the door was pushed open, revealing two people. One was a wiry man with lank hair. He wore a white coat and black pants. The doctor, I assumed. The other man was the main one from before, I saw, only his hood had been removed as well. His hair was shoulder length in spikes the color of faded roses. His jaw was strong and set into a firm frown. As though on cue, both men turned to look at me.

"Good, she is awake." said the white-coated man. He lifted a clipboard at the edge of the table and checked off a few things. Took some notes. He rounded the edge of the bed to a large monitor and turned dials. All of things a doctor would do.

"Why am I here?" I asked, surprised by the fact that my speech was so plain.

The doctor glanced at the other man, as if to ask permission, and then looked at me gravely.

"You've been injured."

_Could've guessed that myself…_

"What happened to me?"

The doctor sighed, lackluster hair shimmering in the lights that weren't there.

"You were attacked yesterday evening," he said.

What time was it? A little digital clock on the monitor read 6:45 p.m.

"I've been here since yesterday night?" I asked. I could hardly believe. How long had I been sleeping?

"In the castle, yes. In this operation room, no."

"It's best to let her see the charts, Vexen." said the other man. His voice was the same as the doctor's- Vexen's- emotionless. "We'll show her the basics, but as for details, we'll remain sparse."

"Yes."

Vexen, what a strange name. He took a few more notes on the clipboard before reaching to adjust the table, raising it to where I was sitting up.

"Momentarily, we will be relocating you to a new room, where you will be allowed to rest more comfortably," he said, not taking his eyes from the clipboard. "Here."

He handed it to me and I saw the generic outline of a female form marked with red lines.

"The red lines-"

"-Are the marks from the injury. I've stitched them up."

There were several. From tiny scrapes on my arms and legs to a large gash underneath my collarbone. I blushed as I compared each mark on the paper with the matching mark on my body. They'd taken my clothes and replaced them with a plain white hospital gown. So, I knew _where _I was injured, but exactly _how _had I been injured?

I started to ask, but the two men seemed to sense my question.

"Move her." the unnamed man said. Vexen took the clipboard from me, detached a few tubes and wires, pressed a few buttons, and then I felt the table shift. They both carted me out the room and down the hall, which was as white as everything else. I took the scarce time I had to observe my surroundings. The walls were white, yes, but with tints of blues and grays for shadows. The hall corners and walls contained simple décor such as vases and baseboard.

It ended all too soon as the man called Vexen turned me into a room and the hallway disappeared. A bed in the corner of the room was a sight for sore eyes, but I sighed when I saw that it was just as laced with monitors and tubing as this table was.

_At least I can sleep, though._

I hadn't asked any more questions, probably because I knew I would get no answers. Just more frustration. And the headache was coming back, anyway… I wanted to sleep…

"We will operate in the morning."

Vexen spoke and I looked. He wasn't addressing me, but the other man, who nodded.

_Operate. On _what_? _I thought, anxiety filling me.

"Very well. And once she has recovered, we will see to it that Naminé has company."

"The witch will respond well to company."

"Naminé? Who's that? What are you-"

My questions were cut short by a haze. Vexen had come over and turned a dial to my right. I struggled but my hands were still bound. I cried out but my voice became weak.

Once again, I was sedated into darkness.

Day III

_Where was I?_

_Why was I here?_

_What had caused me to need an operation?_

…_Who was Naminé?_

Questions buzzed in and out of brain like annoying flies and I flitted to and from consciousness. Shades of gray and white watered before my eyes. My head hurt so badly I thought I was going to scream. I opened my mouth to feel my lips were chapped and dry. I breathed in lungful of crisp air, feeling a presence above my mouth. There were tubes running out my nose, taped to my face. I moved to rip them off, to free myself, but those damn straps held my arms down. I kicked my legs in vane; they were held down as well, secured at my ankles.

As if on cue, my brain began to wake up. Like increasing the lighting in a room, I was suddenly brought to cool, clear consciousness.

"She's waking up on time," came that doctor's familiar voice, "Good. Everything seems to be in order."

"Very well, Vexen. She will be released from your captivity later today."

It was that man's voice again. The one with the superior aura and the strong jaw, the odd fuchsia hair. There was someone else in the room as well. A man with such brilliant red hair that it gave me a headache to even look his way. There were black tattoos under his eyes and a tiger-like quality to his irises. He was dressed the same as the others, but something about him seemed off… relaxed, sort of. There was odd tug in my chest. This man… he seemed so… familiar.

"Axel, see to it that Naminé is aware of the new visitor."

The leader addressed Axel- the red-headed man- who nodded.

"Sure thing. Later."

And then he did something odd. He… spun out of sight. As though an invisible doorway had appeared behind him, he left in a swirl of black haze.

The pink-haired man sighed. "He's only arousing more questions by _not _using the door."

"Who are you?" I asked. The man looked at me, as thought noticing for the first time that I was in the room. His eyes narrowed and I regretted speaking. But as quickly as he'd looked at me, he glanced away.

"Vexen, you know what to do." and then he left.

It felt strange to be fully awake after two days of headaches and dreams and questions. I was still wearing the tiny hospital gown and wondered if I would be allowed a shower.

"I am going to release you, girl, but if you try anything funny, you will have to deal with Marluxia."

Marluxia… was that the man's name?

"Okay. Just let me have my arms back."

In a second, I felt the straps on my wrists and angles release with a snap. I pulled my arms to me, flexing my wrists in silent freedom.

"Here."

Vexen handed me a bundle of black fabric, face portraying no emotion at all. I muttered a thank you and then surveyed the garments. Black, to no surprise. Vexen pointed to me a bathroom to change in. Inside, I found that he'd given me black pants and a tiny shirt to match. Better than one of those cloaks everyone was wearing, at least. What was with those things? Was there a dress code in this place that said everyone had to dress the same? And what was up with the voices, flat and emotionless? And the silence? Hadn't these people ever heard of music? Put on some Beethoven at least…

When I stepped out, the red headed man was there again. I wondered vaguely how much gel he'd used to form the red spikes in such a composed way.

"Axel will escort you to your next location." Vexen said. "But first, let me check…"

His hands were in my hair then, cold and dry. He prodded something at the base of my head, causing me to shift in pain.

"The stitches are stable," he said, "But I would advise you not to touch them for a few days."

"Let's go," the man called Axel said. He took me my arm and led me out.

"Who's Naminé?" I asked.

"You'll see… she's something of a character."

"Where am I?"

"Do you _want _to go back to the operating room?"

"Why was Vexen operating on me? What happened?"

Axel sighed, bring up a gloved hand to run through his red spikes, "You'll find out soon."

I was going to ask how soon was soon but then we reached a door. He pulled it open, prodded me inside, and then I met the girl.

Like I'd been told, her name was Naminé, and she was nothing like the people I'd met so far. She was slight, probably the same size I was, and had tidy, platinum blonde hair. She wore a dress, which caused her to blend into the wall nearly. It was white. The most colorful thing about Naminé was her eyes- the color of icebergs- and her sketchbook.

She drew, but that's all anyone would tell me. She drew people and places I'd never even heard of, and posted them on the stark white walls. I liked Naminé. Her drawings seemed to defy what the black-cloaked people seemed to strive for- nothingness.

I'd been told that this room was 'her' room. The walls white, tinted in there usual shades, like a boring watercolor painting. There was a skylight, yet it must have been some sort of illusion. The squares of light remained white and edgeless, as if infinite, artificial sunlight was streaming into the room, yet never touching anything. I was in the room with her for two days and within those two days, she didn't talk much. Nor did I . Maybe it was because those figures would come in every so often and just stand. Sometimes it would be Axel, sometimes it would be Marluxia- or I assumed that was the pink-haired man's name- and sometimes it would be another member, who wore their hood perpetually. Or maybe I didn't talk as I much I would have because of the drawings. When she drew, she concentrated and I felt wrong to disrupt it.

Art was something I did as well, but it hurt me to remember that. I wondered how everything was back at home. I wondered if grandma had been tending to her garden and if Erin had finished the physics project she'd been worrying so much over. But I didn't think about home too much. I supposed that's how it was if someone was dreaming. They would focus only on the current events and leave the rest behind- until they woke up. And that's what I was going to do. I knew it.

But after three days, there wasn't that kick, that tug in the back of my mind that jolted me awake. There was just a constant clarity, a never changing feeling of alertness. I pinched myself, blinked hard, nothing happened. I was awake. Agonizingly awake.

On the fourth day in Naminé's room, I spoke to her.

"These drawings are really something," I said to her, and then noted that the constant scratching of a pencil quieted. The only soundtrack to the room was silenced as she looked up at me.

"Thank you."

She went back to drawing, but then I saw her flip a few pages, abandoning the sketch from before. I almost asked if I could see the sketchbook, but didn't want to interrupt her.

I stood up, joints aching from sitting one position for so long, and then went to the wall. Her drawings were colorful, yet lacked detail. Somehow though, they were beautiful. Looking at them, I blinked. I'd just felt that feeling again. That gentle tugging in my chest.

"So… how long have you been here?" I asked, turning away from the wall. I touched my hair, which was lank and greasy from not being washed the past week.

She stopped drawing again and then really seemed to think. Her normal, robot-like answer didn't come.

"For as long as I can remember," she said. Her voice wasn't the generic lilt that I'd been hearing the past few days. It was different. Still soft, still… Naminé, but it seemed to contain something I hadn't heard from anyone in the white place: wistfulness.

Behind me, the door creaked and I knew automatically that someone had entered. I thought it would be Axel, but then noted the heavier footsteps. A shadow traced it's way across the floor and then Marluxia was there.

He only uttered a few words, "Come with me."

I stood before a council of people. Six figured clad in black coats stared down at me from there white chairs. It was an odd arrangement. Some chairs were higher than others, some lower, some empty, some occupied. It looked to me as though these people were ranked.

"It's good to see you in good health, girl."

I looked to the speaker, the woman from before. She'd removed her hood and I saw her face: pale and green eyed with a little pixy nose. Her hair was blonde and short. She looked absolutely menacing.

"Good health… that I'll soon ruin."

"Silence, Larxene." said Marluxia. "She has recovered well from her previous injuries. We've allowed her board with Naminé the past few days."

"Little memory witch?" came a new voice. It was quiet, yet intelligent, "How do we know Naminé hadn't messed with her head in this stay?"

"Quiet," ordered Marluxia, "We have surveyed the two of them. Nothing unusual has taken place."

"So what is the purpose of all this, Marluxia? Are we planning something useful with this girl, or are we all supposed to be giddy with excitement that we have a new, useless guest?" the woman, Larxene, spoke, tone vexed.

"My name is Jamie," I said, cutting them all off, "And I would like to know what all of this is about?"

"She really doesn't remember…"

"What a conundrum…"

"Silence." Marluxia held up a hand and then rested his eyes on me. I tried not to blink. "You will ask no questions, girl-"

"_Jamie_."

"-And we will show you the answers to all of your questions."

"When?"

"Won't shut up, will she…?" Larxene again.

Axel sat in his chair, head resting upon his hand. He looked… bored. I noted the little flames that kept dancing out of his fingers. What _was _he?

"Xemnas knows that she is here, correct?" came the quiet voice again. This figure kept his hood on, along with another, who's large form sat in a lower chair.

"Yes. He is coming tomorrow to the castle. But by then, this girl will know everything."

"Good. She's giving me a damn headache…"

I bit my lip. What were they talking about? I just wanted to go home… and who was this _Xemnas _person? He sounded pretty important. Maybe he could tell me what I wanted to know.

"Who are you people?" I asked, "And why I am here? I want to go home."

Chuckles came from a few people, but Marluxia remained unfazed. "Silence."

"Damn it, enough of this 'silence' bullshit. I'm here for a reason, and I want to know why." I demanded. I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I didn't know anything that was about to happen…

And then the blonde woman did something odd with her hand. There was a sound like knives being sharpened and then four perfectly pointed blades appeared from between her fingers, sticking out from her knuckles. I stepped back in fear. What the _hell _were those?

"Larxene…" Axel's voice hissed. He'd sat up straight in his chair, suddenly alert. The other members shifted as well. Apparently, this wasn't part of the plan.

"Get the girl back to her room," Marluxia said. He looked as though he neither cared nor was interested, yet his words contained a tone of dismissal. Axel hopped down from his seat with a rustle of fabric, took my arm, and then we were gone, leaving Larxene seething.

"Shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?" I asked this man. His hands were too warm, I noted. "I was only asking-"

"You know to be quiet by now. Another slip of like that and she'll have your throat- literally."

I thought it was awfully unfair of some strange woman who didn't know me to have control over whether I lived or died, but I was realizing that there were a lot of unfair things about this place. Like hygiene, for instance.

"There isn't a shower or anything around here, is there?" I asked, "I know I'm the 'unwilling captive' and everything, but I'm beginning to smell pretty rank."

Axel's lips turned up, as if he was about to smile, but then he seemed to stop himself.

"I'm pretty sure Marluxia won't mind, but…"

"But?"

"There." he pointed a long finger down the hall, sighing in submission. "Go ahead. But make it quick. Naminé needs to…"

I looked at him, waiting for him to finish, but when he didn't, I shrugged. "Whatever."

And then I sauntered down the hallway to a heaven scented dream.

Hair clean, body scrubbed, and back in the black jeans and shirt, I returned to the white, sky-lit room, where Naminé was waiting. It took a moment for me to absorb the fact of who was in the room with the little blonde girl. Axel sat lazily in a chair, Naminé was scribbling away at the table, and Marluxia was standing with his arms crossed, examining the artwork on the wall.

But when I stepped in, everything stopped. Axel sat up, Marluxia turned to face me, and Naminé looked serenely up from her picture. There was something in her eyes then, something I hadn't saw before…

"It's time."

Marluxia spoke, but I hardly registered what he's said. Axel looked at me, and something like regret flashed his eyes. I noticed for the first time that they were green, the color of jade.

"What's…?"

Marluxia reached me and I winced when his strong hand encircled my upper arm. I felt like an ant next to him, small and helpless. He guided me to the one of the only pieces of furniture in the room, a white couch- and sat me down. He glanced at Naminé, "You know what to do… be gentle with this one."

The last thing I remembered was Marluxia holding me down, and then Naminé was stepping towards me. Before my vision faded out, I saw the sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, and then her fingertips pressed to my temples.

Day IX

"Think she'll remember?"

"Of course. Naminé did a fine job on this one. She looks… radiant."

"What if she still think's she's…"

"She won't. She knows her true name."

I heard voices above me in the dark. It was dark. My eyes were closed and I couldn't open them. I felt as though someone had glued my lids shut.

"She's waking."

I recognized two voices at once. The first one came from that arrogant flame-wad, Axel. The other was Diz, I knew. He was probably bandaged up as always and bursting with his infinite knowledge.

"Mmnm…" I said. 'Mmnm' wasn't a word, but it was all I could get out. My brain was fully functioning, but I couldn't open my eyes. My voice wouldn't work.

"Your going already?"

"Yes. There are many things I need to attend to, Axel. I just hope… I just hope she'll be alright here."

"She will be. She's a tough one, just like…"

"Goodbye, Axel." Diz said, stopping Axel from finishing. There was a pause in which I expected a door to open and shut or footsteps to fade out, but this his wise voice spoke again, sounding melancholy, "Goodbye, Sky."


End file.
